


Jesse

by Ladycat



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Gen, Kid Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-12
Updated: 2014-02-12
Packaged: 2018-01-12 02:40:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1180948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ladycat/pseuds/Ladycat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He names her Jesse. Everyone thinks it’s short for Jessica, but it isn’t. It’s just Jesse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Jesse

When he’s thought about it—and he hasn’t, much—it’s always been a boy. He knows boys, gets boys. They want to toss around footballs, or kick something just to see how long it’d go, how much damage it’d create upon landing. Boys like being dirty. They don’t mind when their knees are skinned, not after the first hot blush of pain has receded: then the injury is cool, luridly detailed band-aids to show off to their friends. They like skateboards and planes that go really, really fast, roller coasters that twist and toss them around.

Boys are _easy_. So when John thinks about it, on the rare, off moments when he contemplates what his own nebulous future family might be, he always has boys. Two or three, even, because what good is it to have one boy, and no one else for him to play with? Siblings are built-in playmates. Occasionally he’ll toy with the idea that one of those siblings is a girl, but what does he know about them? It’s women he’s interested in, women who fill out the lacy bras they wear, whose bodies are wet and welcoming. He knows nothing at all about girls. 

Which means it’s no surprise to anyone that when he does become a father, it’s to a little girl with eyes that shift from gray to green to blue, under a shock of dark hair like an eagle’s proud crest, falling into those changing, fathomless eyes.

John remembers holding her and thinking _I have no idea what nicknames to give a girl. I can’t call her sport or buddy or son. I can’t call her kiddo or batman. I can’t call her anything._

He names her Jesse. Everyone thinks it’s short for Jessica, but it isn’t. It’s just Jesse.

Raising a girl is far easier than John’s ever imagined. He still has moments of panic, his hands too big and fumble-fingered, his shoulders suddenly too broad, the flatness of his chest an accusation as he frantically calls for Elizabeth or Teyla or _somebody_ female because no way is he handling whatever the current crisis is.

It helps that he’s got an entire expedition who is willing to accommodate Lieutenant Colonel Daddy, and a city that’s as smitten with her as John is.

But mostly, John thanks every day that Jesse is _Jesse_. The cheerful, confident little sprite that happily climbs up into his lap whenever he’s bent enough to have one, whose still-chubby arms twine around his neck, face rubbing against his cheek or chin, pouting when it scratches her delicate skin, then laughing as John scrambles for the bathroom, as self-conscious about it today as he was over twenty years ago and first starting to kiss girls.

Jesse is solid and comfortable, an extension of himself even if the bonds aren’t physical, obvious to the naked eye. She is his constant companion, tucked in his arms or riding on his shoulders, a look-out to the world John’s slowly relearning. She is how he expresses his joy, her beaming smile taking the place of his own sardonic attempts, her laughter ringing bells of happiness, filling up the rooms he can only stand in the middle of.

Jesse is the gentle glide of skin against skin, of warmth that can only come from another beloved, trusted human, physical embodiment of the words he’s never been able to say, the comfort he’s never been able to give.

Every night John scoops her up into his arms, feeling her wrap spider-tight around him, and thanks whatever Ancient-induced accident of her genesis that she’s a girl and not a boy. A girl who can hug and be hugged, imperiously demanding affection from everyone she meets, certain that she’ll receive it. A girl who wants to be held by her father as much as he wants to hold her.


End file.
